


Best Not Remembered

by Emery



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Brainwashing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Alteration, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emery/pseuds/Emery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Maverick out of the picture, Barnaby embraces a new life full of freedom and romance. But just when he thinks nothing can go wrong, he finds himself haunted once again by the web of lies woven so thoroughly into his memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **My apologies, but this fic has long since been discontinued, as I am now using the original characters therein in storylines entirely my own and no longer wish to involve them in fanworks. Thank you to those who supported Best Not Remembered, and again, I'm sorry if this disappoints anyone!**

Maverick was presumed dead, but the web of lies woven so carefully into Barnaby's memories still remained. He was plagued by the helpless feeling of knowing that all the sweet moments he cherished, all the hard times he learned from, and all the emotions he savored were false. Some memories may have been true, but none escaped the twisted influence of the falsities. Barnaby finally came to terms with the fact that nothing he knew was pure. He often wondered if there was a way to restore his memories and right his mind, but was the complete truth something he could handle? The question remained at the front of his mind and he struggled daily to commit to an answer.

Suddenly, the question was forgotten, the answer still unknown, but nothing else mattered when Kotetsu returned to Sternbild. Barnaby's depression lifted and he didn't think twice about his questionable past. Everything was to be made anew, now. Without Maverick in his life, Barnaby possessed a new freedom to make the memories he chose instead of living out his uncle's lie.

He and Kotetsu returned to HeroTV, and Barnaby felt like he was re-living a past time. The oppressing shadow of Apollon's CEO was lifted and replaced with freedom's warm rays, and there was no longer anything holding control of the hero duo and keeping their feelings for each other at bay. The friendship deepened immediately upon Kotetsu's return, and romance blossomed soon afterwards. Barnaby realized that for the first time in his life, he was truly happy. He was happy not as a result of an implanted memory or the removal of an event that would cause him grief; he was happy because Kotetsu and Kotetsu's love was the unadulterated emotion he had been lacking for twenty-six years. His love contained a previously unknown purity, untouched by Maverick's cruel hand, and the emotion was overwhelming.

When they made love for the first time, nothing in the world could have seemed amiss. Their kisses were heated and full, lips meshing perfectly and tongues sliding over one another endlessly as they drew their breaths from each other's mouths. Kotetsu's thrusts were slow and passionate at first, carefully savoring Barnaby's sweet, eager body and making it his own with every forward lunge of his hips. Barnaby saw stars and knew nothing else in the world at that moment but the feeling of Kotetsu's tanned skin on his own. Warm and content and full of his lover's seed, Barnaby didn't dream that night.

A next time came, of course, and a next. Sex became a regular occurrence, and it wasn't long before Barnaby realized he barely left Kotetsu's house anymore.

Everything was perfect.

Kotetsu reluctantly pulled out of Barnaby and flopped down beside him among tangled sheets, gathering his panting blond into his arms and breathing in deeply the smell of sex and Barnaby's shampoo. Barnaby turned to plant a light kiss on Kotetsu's lips, followed by a breathy whisper. "Go to sleep. We have work tomorrow."

Kotetsu nodded thickly, nuzzling into Barnaby's soft curls with a gentle sigh. With the warmth of Kotetsu's naked body against his back, it was easy for Barnaby's eyes to flutter shut and remain that way for most of the night.

He couldn't breathe. He was choking and gagging, head held still by some unknown force and not allowing him air. He was in pain, though he knew not from what, and red flames swirled around him in a sickening display of arrogant control. His name was called softly at first, echoing throughout the smoke and the heat. The calls were more urgent, but amidst his suffocation Barnaby couldn't answer. In an instant he was jolted out from that place and thrown back down into reality with a force that seemed to knock the breath out of him. He drank in the air around him in noisy, desperate gasps as Kotetsu stroked his hair and rested his nose against Barnaby's sweaty cheek.

"Just a nightmare, Bunny, it's all right. You're safe now, Bunny. It's ok," he murmured. It was a long time until Barnaby calmed down. It had been so long since he had had a nightmare that the magnitude of this one was staggering. After so many dreamless nights, he had almost forgotten that such things as dreams existed.

Turning in Kotetsu's arms to face him, Barnaby buried his head into the broad chest before him and hid himself from the world. There in the dark with only Kotetsu's rhythmic heartbeat to cheer him on, Barnaby fought the dark tendrils of doubt seeping into his mind and poisoning the perfect world he had made for himself. Convincing himself that the nightmare formed because of stress at work or from something he ate, he held on tightly to Kotetsu and blocked out the possibilities he didn't want to consider.

The next time Barnaby sucked Kotetsu's cock, the dream returned. Barnaby relished the way Kotetsu looked down at him, loving golden-brown eyes hazed over with lust. He savored the feeling of warm semen hitting his face, forming messy trails over his cheeks and lips and chin. But most of all he basked in the warmth of Kotetsu's words when he pulled Barnaby back up to him and gently kissed his forehead. "I love you, Bunny."

A few hours later he awoke, his body racking with sobs. No matter what Kotetsu did to comfort him, Barnaby remained inconsolable. Again and again he asked, "Bunny, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Barnaby didn't know.

In a matter of weeks Barnaby's world descended from flawless beauty ruled by love back into the depths of uncertainty and helplessness. He finally accepted the reality he had been forcing himself to avoid, admitting that he knew the reason for the nightmares after all. Scared and with a heavy heart, Barnaby once again found himself in the black place he thought he had escaped forever. Twenty years' worth of memories suppressed by Maverick were trying to break free. Barnaby didn't know it, but he had encountered too many contradictions for the implanted thoughts to remain dormant, and his mind was in turmoil as it struggled to sort fiction from truth. This subconscious, panicked sorting resulted in the nightmares that plagued Barnaby nearly every night.

The question he had been avoiding for the year between Maverick's presumed death and Kotetsu's return returned once again, angry and demanding an answer.

Was it really worth knowing the truth? Would the good memories outweigh the bad when all was said and done?

Barnaby finally knew the answer, though the decision was not made by choice.

The next day he began his search for a psychiatrist.


	2. Chapter 2

Barnaby didn't know where to turn. Sternbild was a mega-city with a hundred licensed psychiatrists, a plethora of counselors, and several hypnotists. If Barnaby's mind could be righted, who would know how to do it? His case was more than brainwashing - it was NEXT-related tampering. For all he or anyone else knew, the process could be irreversible without Maverick's power, or an exact copy of said power, present. In such a hopeless case, who could possibly help him?

After careful research, a few inquiries, and a discussion with Kotetsu, Barnaby crossed all the names from his list except for one. Dr. Amaranthe Spring, a psychiatrist who specialized in NEXT psychology and dabbled in expert dream analysis. From the information Barnaby procured online, she appeared to be a woman only slightly older than himself with a warm smile that distinguished her from many of the other stern-faced professionals Barnaby had seen during his search.

A phone call was made to her office and an appointment booked. Once Barnaby gave his name, he was moved to the front of the list.

"Dr. Spring can see you tomorrow if that's convenient, Mr. Brooks?"

Barnaby sighed internally, realizing that every psychiatrist and counselor in Sternbild had been hoping for this phone call for over a year. Maverick's NEXT ability and the temporary brainwashing of Sternbild's citizens, the heroes, and especially Barnaby had been documented on HeroTV, after all. It was assumed with good reason that Barnaby's problems extended beyond that single incident, given Maverick's close relationship to the star hero as well as his identity as the revealed murderer of the famous Brooks engineers. He was a psychiatrist's dream, if only for the fame he would surely bring.

With this thought in mind, he told the secretary as an afterthought, "I would very much appreciate it if your office would treat me like any other patient. I don't want the press asking questions, and I would ask that you not encourage them to do so. If I'm not going to be treated like a normal person, I can see another doctor."

His request was polite but firm. Even over the phone, the intensity of his voice was palpable, and the secretary agreed with what seemed to be genuine understanding. It was enough to placate Barnaby for the time being, and he hung up the phone both nervous and relieved.

Kotetsu stared at him from across the room and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"I have an appointment tomorrow," Barnaby answered the unspoken question. He walked over to his lover and sat on the couch beside him as Kotetsu took the thin hand in his own.

"I'm nervous. I don't want to do this. I don't want to know."

Kotetsu just looked at him and grimaced, the look in his eyes only confirming what Barnaby didn't want to admit.

There was no choice, now. It had to be done before the nightmares consumed him. Once already the visions had appeared to him in the daytime. Night terrors were bad enough, and Barnaby didn't want to add hallucinations to his list of daily torture. It was apparent that if his memories were not untangled, the contradictions they encountered would be too much for his mind to handle. If he waited any longer, he would become so confused that even the most concrete truths in his life would no longer seem to be real. His mind would implode; he would be hospitalized, possibly unable to care for himself in his state of mental distress. He would lose Kotetsu.

Again.

Kotetsu squeezed Barnaby's fingers reassuringly and placed a gentle kiss to the back of his hand.

No matter what Barnaby discovered about his past, it was worth getting to have Kotetsu by his side for the remainder of his future.

There was no arduous wait for Barnaby Brooks Jr. The moment he returned his paperwork to the front desk, Dr. Spring herself appeared from behind a door that must have led to her office. She took Barnaby's hand in both of her own and welcomed him warmly, looking up at him with a smile that managed to temporarily relieve him of his worries and fears.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Mr. Brooks," she said as she led him back to a comfortable room with a reclined leather couch, which he had expected, and a beautifully decorated porcelain teacup accompanied by two matching cups and saucers, which he had not expected. "I hope you like tea, Mr. Brooks. There's milk and honey if you'd like."

"Ah," Barnaby replied quickly, trying to hide his surprise. "You can call me Barnaby. And I do, thank you."

It was awkward, he had to admit, but not as uncomfortable as he had expected. The tea was sweet and relaxing, and in an attempt to keep things natural, Dr. Spring permitted him to sit on the couch facing her instead of lying back and staring into the void of the plain white ceiling. "Whatever makes you the most comfortable," she said.

They discussed her research and her interest in NEXTs, his work and accomplishments as a hero, and even Kotetsu. Talking about Kotetsu relaxed him significantly, and Dr. Spring took that as her cue to dive deeper.

"What would you like to talk to me about, Barnaby?" she asked carefully, leaning forward in her chair and gazing into his emerald eyes with keen interest and curiosity.

He blinked and lowered his head, searching for words and finding it unexpectedly difficult to confine the immensity of his problem to a few choice words. It didn't help that Barnaby had never been good at talking about himself or his feelings. Forming words was far from his strongest attribute even after years of careful training and grooming by Maverick and the rest of the media.

"My memories are causing me trouble," he finally stammered out.

He was rewarded with a knowing and sympathetic smile from the woman sitting across the coffee table from him. He could see that she had figured as much. Of course she had. She was far from stupid, and just as Barnaby expected, she had been waiting for this opportunity for months.

"I believe I can help you, but it will take time. I can't guarantee it will be pleasant. There will be medication and possibly some unordinary treatments. But if you're patient with me and if you trust me-you cringe at the mention of trust? We will work on that, too."

Barnaby's cheeks reddened. She was reading him like an open book.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, never once letting her gaze stray from Barnaby's eyes, and reassured him, "We'll work through this. _You_ will work through this. Sternbild has faith in you, Barnaby! No one wants to lose their hero."

She paused. Barnaby said nothing.

"Will you trust me, Barnaby? Will you promise to give me a chance to help you?"

He had never given anyone that chance except Kotetsu, and even allowing that stupid old man into his life had taken so long. However, it was the thought of Kotetsu alone that gave Barnaby the encouragement he needed to nod his head in agreement.

Anything to preserve his future. Anything to keep Kotetsu.

"I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

The process of recovering Barnaby’s memories was slow but steady. While Dr. Spring didn’t rush Barnaby’s progress, her eagerness to unlock the secrets of Maverick’s NEXT power helped to speed things along. Kotetsu and Barnaby’s relationship remained the same, as did the nightmares, but daytime hallucinations were few and far between. A few medications were involved, the basics such as sleep aids and anxiety pills included. At Spring’s insistence, Barnaby hesitantly began taking a few other prescriptions in addition to his medications of the more common variety.

The therapies were simple at first. Barnaby recounted as many memories as he could, kept a journal of them accompanied by notes of his dreams and when he had them. He revisited places associated with events he could remember from childhood and adolescence. It was a constant struggle for Spring to befriend him and gain his trust, but over time and at Kotetsu’s urging, Dr. Spring slowly became Amaranthe. Barnaby’s conversations with her lost their professionalism and the pots of tea they shared were no longer a formality but a treat. Kotetsu accompanied Barnaby to his sessions on occasion and helped with whatever he could.

The treatment was not without its difficulties, however. There were side effects from the medication. Barnaby’s moods were up and down more than they had ever been. His appetite increased, something his carefully controlled diet could not afford, and he always found himself tired in the middle of the day even after a good night’s sleep. He complained of nausea often enough to be worrisome and it wasn’t long before the other heroes realized something was amiss.

Kotetsu tried his best to cover for his partner, knowing full well that Barnaby hated discussing his own problems and had enough trouble doing so with Amaranthe without also having to explain himself to his friends. While everyone agreed to not mention Barnaby’s troubles in front of him, it was no mystery to the blond that they were worried.

The media catching wind of Barnaby’s abnormal behaviors was unavoidable, and it was only a matter of time before the tabloids exploded into speculation. Headlines about him being too stressed or the possibility of him losing his charm were all over Sternbild, and it made him sick. His problems were not the media’s problems. The more he thought about it, the more outraged he became. His life was no longer personal. It had been bad enough when the reporters had tortured him and Kotetsu for tidbits about their relationship, when they had found a camera outside of Kotetsu’s house attempting to catch some scandalous moment between the two of them. But now that his past and his emotional trauma were being exploited, Barnaby was ready to give up on everything.

“It’s not worth it,” he said firmly during his next session. Despite his efforts to remain calm, he knew his voice was louder than he had meant it to be. “I can’t catch a break. I feel awful. I’m still having nightmares. And I _still_ can’t distinguish between what’s true or forged. There’s nothing different about my memories than there was a month and a half ago.”

Amaranthe sat back in her seat and sighed, licking her lips to bide time as she figured out what to say.

“Barnaby, you’ve opened up to me more than I thought you would, and you’ve been very cooperative. But do you remember when you promised me that you would be patient?”

A cold stare served as his answer. Of course he did. But that didn’t matter. This was too much.

“There _is_ something I can try,” the psychiatrist intoned carefully. “Something new. But I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”

“Nothing new until I see more progress,” Barnaby countered immediately. The _last_ thing he wanted was yet another pill to swallow every night before bed.

“Let me ask you this, Barnaby.” It was clear that Amaranthe didn’t plan on giving up. “Have your nightmares or hallucinations worsened at all since we began your treatments?”

Barnaby shook his head slightly, blinking and feeling slightly defeated. He knew where she was going with this.

“In fact,” she continued. “They’ve lessened slightly in their intensity, am I right?”

Yes, she was.

“Then please allow me to try one new treatment.” Amaranthe didn’t wait for objections. “There’s another expert that I’d like you to see. He’s not a doctor, but I’ve worked closely with him during my research and I believe he can help us. I’m not referring you; I’ll remain with you as well. But I believe it would be very beneficial if the three of us could begin meeting as a group.”

Barnaby was silent, waiting for more.

“There is one issue.”

Of course there was. He continued to wait.

Amaranthe discarded her clipboard in favor of leaning forward towards Barnaby and looking him intently in the eye, something she only did when she really wanted his attention.

“I implore you not to object to the treatment solely because of this, but my friend is also a NEXT, you see. I have confidence that by utilizing his power, we can solve many, if not all of your problems. I had this therapy in mind from the start, but I only planned to use it in the event that you became desperate.”

“What’s the problem, Amaranthe?” Barnaby asked flatly. The phrase sounded more like a statement than a question.

The doctor pursed her lips. “The power that I would like to utilize is, well, it’s Albert Maverick’s power. At least, it’s very s _imilar_ to that power. During my years of research about NEXT psychology, I met several people with powers involving dream-navigating, astral projection, memory manipulation and removal. The list goes on.”

It was clear that Barnaby was barely listening. There was someone else in the world with that extraordinary of a power? There was someone else in the world who possessed such a dangerous tool? Someone else who could misuse their gift and create hell for anyone they chose, just as Maverick had done to Barnaby? A sudden rage coursed through Barnaby’s veins and a thought he couldn’t control made its way to the forefront of his mind.

Eliminated.

Whoever had that power should be eliminated, terminated, killed, _destroyed_. No one with the potential to cause such harm to another human being should be allowed to exist. No one like Maverick.

“…He’s helped me with a great deal of my research and he’s a very sweet man. A big fan of you, too. Please at least consider it. Talk it over with Kotetsu, if you need to.”

Barnaby barely heard her. How, after all he had gone through, could she possibly expect him to be accepting of such a treatment, to allow his mind to be exposed and once again be at the mercy of another?

Part of him knew he was overreacting, but that quiet, rational side of Barnaby wasn’t the side he was listening to at the moment.

“No,” he spat, furious. “Absolutely not.”

Just the _thought_ of allowing someone with that kind of power anywhere near him was sickening. A bright blue ball of light near his head was the last thing in this world he wanted to see, and yet his mind projected all sorts of images before him. Barnaby saw that light, though he knew it wasn’t there. He saw the light and he saw Maverick, too, and tears were streaming down his face because all he wanted to do was _remember_. All at once he was caught up in that blinding light, his brain being torn apart into chaos and his heartbeat soaring out of control. Up and down was switched, and all at once Barnaby forgot e _verything_ , even how to _breathe._ He couldn’t bring himself to move, and there was only darkness as he found himself a helpless puppet to be manipulated.

It was Kotetsu’s voice that called him instead of Amaranthe’s, when he awoke.

“Bunny? Can you hear me, Bunny?”

A calloused hand brushed the bangs from his eyes and then rested on his cheek. Barnaby nodded thickly, his head heavy and throbbing with the movement.

“You passed out, Bunny, but you’re at home now. Dr. Spring said you were hallucinating when you collapsed. You had two seizures.”

Kotetsu stopped talking and awaited Barnaby’s response. His chest rose and fell slowly, his breathing difficult yet steady.

“Call her,” the young man croaked out, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“Tell her I’ll accept her offer.”


	4. Chapter 4

Of course Kotesu was worried sick. As Barnaby's partner in more ways than one, he was affected by the entire scenario almost as much as Barnaby himself. When his Bunny's moods changed, so did Kotetsu's. When his Bunny was upset, Kotetsu became worried. And when his Bunny was sick like this, dreaming and hallucinating and now _seizing_ , Kotetsu was far beyond worried. His fear for Barnaby's well-being manifested itself into a type of physical illness not unlike the literal pangs of grief he had suffered for months, years even, on Tomoe's behalf.

And yet his trust and confidence in his lover never once faltered. He and Barnaby had been through too much together for their belief in one another to be broken. When Barnaby made a decision, Kotetsu didn't question his judgment. Barnaby was one of the most intelligent people, if not _the_ most intelligent person he had ever met. Anger often clouded his reason, but there had been no fiery rage in Barnaby's eyes in the hospital room when he had told Kotetsu to call Dr. Spring. He had been calm. Weak, yes, but perfectly calm, and as a result Kotetsu had not even hesitated in stepping from the room where Barnaby lay and dialing the psychiatrist's number. He had no idea what "treatment" Barnaby was talking about, but it didn't matter.

At this point, it was clear to Kotetsu that Barnaby needed whatever help he could get.

The conversation was brief; Kotetsu made sure to keep it so. Every moment he spent away from Barnaby's side, despite being separated by only a single wall, he became more and more sick to his stomach as it tied itself into nervous knots. He assured Dr. Spring, who seemed almost _overly_ concerned, that Barnaby was both awake and coherent and had made his decision with confidence.

Amaranthe's cautious tone whenever she mentioned the new therapy she had in mind made Kotetsu uneasy, but remaining informed was not as important to him at the moment as it was to get back to Barnaby. He would ask about it later, once Barnaby was fully recovered but before he went in for his next appointment.

"I'll make the preparations, Kotetsu. Thank you so much for calling me. I was worried sick about him."

 _Worried sick, huh?_ Kotetsu thought wryly. _You don't know the half of it._

"Just have him give me a ring when he's better. Until then, keep in touch?"

Kotetsu mumbled out as polite an affirmation as he could manage before pocketing his cell phone and opening the door back up to Barnaby's room all in one swift movement.

The young man was sitting up, now, though his eyes were tired and his complexion too pale. "What did she say?" he asked, his tone almost too eager for his condition.

Kotetsu sighed and slid his hand through Barnaby's tangled curls. "She's worried about you. She'll make preparations for the therapy. Call her when you're better. That's it. But Bunny, I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about _you_. What happened?"

Barnaby's excitement deadened immediately, his gaze kept stationary straight ahead, staring at nothing. "I don't know, exactly." That wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. "Well, I do. But it's hard to explain, Kotetsu. It's hard to explain unless you've seen it." His voice grew more and more distant as he spoke, fading softly into a detached whisper.

Well, that wasn't much to go on. Kotetsu pried more, anyway.

"Seen what?"

Barnaby hung his head. His lips moved soundlessly for a moment, and Kotetsu managed to catch the gleam of a single tear that fell from the tip of Barnaby's nose. He looked up at Kotetsu then, eyes glazed over with tears but suddenly holding a healthier appearance as he did his best to recover from the haze his manipulated mind had trapped him in. Determination had always been Barnaby's strong point, and it made Kotetsu's heart leap to see it shining through so fervently even now, in this difficult time.

"That ball of light," Barnaby began hesitantly, now looking Kotetsu dead straight in the eye. "That ball of light that formed in his hand before he..."

Kotetsu understood Barnaby's pause. "I know, Bunny. You don't have to say it. Go on," he urged. "Go on. What about it?"

Barnaby swallowed hard and tried again. "When you see something again and again, and then you learn that that _something_ brings you grief, you learn to grow afraid of it." Did that make sense? Barnaby wasn't sure, but since Kotetsu's eyes remained fixed expectantly on him he mustered up his next sentence amidst a deep breath and kept going. "An example. Pretend for a moment that you know a child. That child has a sweet, loving father, but his father's personality changes drastically when he's drunk. The child’s father is an alcoholic. The child loves his father dearly, and his father loves him in return. But every night the child sees him return home with a bottle in hand, something bad happens. His father yells at him. Maybe he hits the boy. Maybe he hurts the kid's mother. It doesn't take long, even for a young child, to begin to associate that bottle with the fear he feels during his father's drunken fits. It's a conditioned response. Happens to everyone. Basic psychology."

Kotetsu couldn't keep the slight smirk from his face. "You've been hanging around Dr. Spring too much. You're becoming a right psychologist, Bunny."

The look he received from Barnaby in return was not one of amusement. "My point _is_ , Kotetsu, that the child's conditioned response may affect him for the remainder of his life, even when his father is long gone. He may see a liquor bottle twenty years in the future, and if he's been traumatized badly enough, he'll be afraid of that bottle despite the fact that his father is nowhere near him, perhaps even dead. Do you understand?"

A nod. It was simple enough. Like Barnaby had said, basic psychology.

"Now consider this." Barnaby's mind was working in over-drive now, as if the illness that had landed him in the hospital in the first place had also been a major source of inspiration for figuring out his own damaged mind.

"The conditional response of fear is still valid, but the affected party can't _remember_ exactly what the trigger for the fear is. Therefore, when it seems that his panicked response is triggered by completely random objects or situations, those triggers aren't actually random at all. He just doesn't know it."

"You're referring to yourself, now," Kotetsu inserted, following along just as easily as Barnaby had hoped he would.

"Exactly. What happened in Amaranthe's office, well, was likely caused by a similar situation. She mentioned another NEXT who had previously helped her with her research. This NEXT has a power, so she claimed, very similar to Maverick's. The moment she said that, I glimpsed the light from one of the lamps on the table beside us and everything in my head went haywire. I know from third parties that whenever Maverick used his power, a bright blue ball of light was somehow involved. However, since my memories were being erased and altered along with the presence of that light, I should never be able to remember seeing it for myself. Right?"

Kotetsu nodded slowly, his mind having to work harder to keep up now that complication of mind alteration was involved. He motioned with his hand for Barnaby to continue, regardless.

"I _saw_ that light. She mentioned another NEXT with Maverick's power. I, naturally, became afraid. Glimpsing the lamp beside us further triggered that fear-response stimulus that's in my sub conscience and I panicked. I saw _Maverick_ in front of me with Maverick's _light._ I saw it coming towards me just as I would have seen right as my memories were being altered. Do you see? That's my first memory! I shouldn't have been able to see that, but I did. I felt like I was experiencing the memory swiping _as it happened_. Do you see? It's like working backwards. My first recovered memory is of my memories being erased!"

Barnaby's partner leaned back in the chair he had pulled up to Barnaby's bedside and crossed his arms, pondering the situation.

So Dr. Spring's treatments were working. Barnaby had recovered his first memory, just as he had hoped to do from the very beginning.

But the point that Barnaby was missing which Kotetsu saw so clearly was the _effect_ of memory recovery on Barnaby's body. Every time he remembered something, would he have a seizure and pass out? Would he be hospitalized for every tiny thing uncovered in his mind? And what if the memory was bigger, somehow, more important? Could Barnaby's body withstand it at all?

Kotetsu shook his head slowly, and it was immediately obvious to Barnaby that something was wrong.

For the first time since Barnaby began attending sessions with Amaranthe, Kotetsu looked _doubtful_.

"Kotetsu?"

No, he couldn't discourage Barnaby. That was out of the question. Kotetsu perked up immediately and forced a tired smile onto his face to cover for the grimace that had been there a moment before.

"It's nothing, Bunny. You're in the hospital, so of course I'm worried, but it's really nothing. You're figuring yourself out, and you remembered something. I-I'm happy for you! I really am!" He reached out to take one of Barnaby's hands in his own and kiss the fingers softly, one at a time, before leaning forward to rest his forehead on the sheets beside Barnaby's shoulder.

_I've got a horrible feeling about this._


	5. Chapter 5

Barnaby refused to remain in the hospital for long. The last thing he needed was the media plaguing him with even _more_ questions and attention than he was already dealing with. On more than one occasion during Barnaby's two-day hospital stay, Kotetsu had had to deal with frustrated calls from Lloyds about the desperate interviewers swarming the Apollon Media building in hopes of finding out where the great Barnaby Brooks Jr. had disappeared to.

"It's been two days. Two _days_ ," Barnaby huffed as Kotetsu finally ended yet another call from Lloyds with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "So I guess heroes can't get sick. It's not like we're human or anything."

Kotetsu shook his head. "Believe it or not, I used to be popular, too. Went through the same thing. You've got the flu, too bad. You've got a wedding, too bad. You've got a wife in labor, doesn't matter." He promptly ended his rant when he realized that it was likely doing nothing but wearing Barnaby out further. "Look," he began more gently. "I'm handling everything with Lloyds the best I can. There have only been a few minor crimes, nothing big to worry about."

Barnaby shrugged, looking peeved and staring with a slight scowl at the bland hospital wall. "Either way, I want out of here. I'd almost rather be braving the press than sitting here doing nothing." One more night for observation, the doctor had insisted earlier that morning. Barnaby was seriously considering ignoring that piece of advice.

 _Observation,_ he thought wryly. _My entire life is observation. Not a second goes by I'm not being observed_.

When Kotetsu's call bracelet began its obnoxious alert, Barnaby made up his mind.

"I'm coming with you."

Kotetsu didn't object as Barnaby carefully removed the IVs from his arm and rushed to the hospital room's tiny mirror to check his hair. It was a lost cause. Thank Heavens it would be covered by a helmet. He hurriedly slid on his boots and jacket as Kotetsu waited by the door, a hand on the doorknob, with a smug grin curling his lips.

As much as Barnaby would never admit it, there were a few ways in which he had grown to be just like his partner. Kotetsu fondly remembered multiple times when he had done exactly what Barnaby was doing then, abandoning the confines of a hospital bed and ignoring the pesky doctor's orders. Kotetsu felt partially responsible for the rare rebellious streak that appeared in the young blond, and he felt it something to be proud of.

"Let's go, old man," Barnaby said, and he pushed past Kotetsu and out the door before the veteran hero had even had time to respond.

When Wild Tiger and Barnaby finally arrived on the scene of the crime, a hostage situation as typical as a hostage situation could be, they found everything already resolved. Fire Emblem and, surprisingly, Origami Cyclone had been the first to respond, and the captor was already being driven away handcuffed in the backseat of a police car.

That didn't stop the press from immediately turning their attention from Fire Emblem and Origami Cyclone to Barnaby, video cameras and microphones shoved at his helmet before he could even dismount his Lonely Chaser.

"Where have you been, Barnaby?"

"Do you have any comments on your decline in point standings?"

"Barnaby, what's _really_ going on?"

"Is your health already declining when you're still only a rookie?"

Barnaby blinked within his helmet, the sudden influx of questions shocking him even though he should have been expecting it. What was he supposed to say?

Wild Tiger covered for him when the pause became too great, enthusiastically stepping in front of the cameras and assuring everyone in Sternbild that Barnaby was still at his absolute best and just waiting for the next big crime to solve! He directed attention back to Fire Emblem and Origami Cyclone, who picked up on Tiger's hints and did their best to distract the reporters from Barnaby by attempting to resume their own interviews which had been so suddenly interrupted.

Barnaby thought he had managed to sneak away, but just as he had once again reached his motorcycle and Wild Tiger was getting situated in his usual spot in the side car, a second, smaller group of reporters rushed up to them with cameras flashing.

"Sternbild Chronicle, Mr. Brooks! Just a few pictures, if you will!"

They didn't wait for consent (When did any part of the media _ever_ wait for consent?) and the flashes continued one after the other.

Barnaby suddenly felt dizzy again, and he knew exactly why. Those _lights_. Again and again they flashed, blinding him and taking him back to the way that blue light between Maverick’s fingers would come closer and closer, eventually obstructing Barnaby's vision completely before the light obstructed his thoughts also. That was how he felt now, as each flash seemed to him a ball of brightness coming closer and closer and stealing away his thoughts. He found himself motionless, in a daze, overwhelmed by the sheer number of them as they seemed to multiply because he was probably seeing double.

When he swayed where he stood and had to grab onto his Lonely Chaser to remain standing, the larger group of cameramen and reporters once again turned their attention from the day's heroes and rushed over to Barnaby.

The blond thought he heard Kotetsu's voice distantly in the background, sounding angry and insistent, probably yelling at the reporters. Even farther away were Nathan's and Ivan's voices joining in to the commotion, but Barnaby could barely hear any of it. The primary voice in his head, surrounding him and grating against his ears, was his Uncle Maverick's. "Good night, Barnaby," he said. Then, "Sleep well, my dear." Maverick's voice again, but seemingly coming from another direction, "Sweetest dreams, my precious little hero."

Barnaby was on his knees then, gripping his head and trying to rip the helmet off so he could _breathe_. If the damned cameras would stop flashing for long enough that he could just--

In Apollon's studio, Agnes immediately cut the live broadcast and called off her own crew while trying to order the employees from other stations, magazines and newspapers to do the same. Agnes may have sold her soul to ratings, but she knew when too much was too much. Besides, she couldn't have one of her most popular hero's reputations tarnished by something like this.

"Stop!" he cried, finally getting the helmet off and throwing it somewhere to the side as he drank in huge gasps of air.

Wild Tiger was at Barnaby's side in an instant, lifting the cover of his own helmet and kneeling on the ground beside his partner to shield him from the view of concerned bystanders and media personnel alike.

Fire Emblem and Origami Cyclone helped to clear the area of people by providing their own stunts and entertainment, but for once the cameras were not drawn to Origami's antics or Fire Emblem's alluring flames.

It wasn't until Wild Tiger led a staggering Barnaby away from the crowd and Agnes herself arrived on the scene half an hour later that the people dispersed entirely.

Only a few moments after Kotetsu and Barnaby had ridded themselves of their armor and, at Kotetsu's comfort and urging, Barnaby had finally managed to calm down, his thin red flip-phone began buzzing on the table in front of them. "Amaranthe Spring" flashed across the preview screen on the outside of the phone, and Barnaby leapt to answer it.

"H-hello?" he stammered, using two shaking hands to try to hold the phone steady against his ear.

Kotetsu draped an arm over his lover's shoulders to keep him steady, and Dr. Saito peeked curiously around the corner into the main room of the Apollon van.

"Barnaby," she began softly, sympathetically. "I just saw what happened on TV. Are you all right?"

Barnaby swallowed. "Should be."

Amaranthe was quiet on the other line, likely running her fingers through her hair or nervously rubbing the back of her neck.

"Barnaby, I had a feeling something like this would happen. I just knew it. But I had hoped I was wrong."

Now it was Barnaby's turn for silence.

"For the sake of your own health and, well, your sanity, we believe you should take a break from the hero business, Barnaby.

"A permanent one."


	6. Chapter 6

Barnaby's breathing came to a halt, the sharp intake of air catching in his throat and remaining there as his lips moved soundlessly and blood pounded so loudly in his ears he could hear nothing else.

_Permanent?_

She couldn't really mean that. No one, not even a doctor as intelligent as Amaranthe, had the kind of foresight to be able to predict whether or not a psychological problem like Barnaby's could permanently affect his career. Taking a leave of absence made much more sense. Did she no longer have confidence that she would be able to cure him?

"Of course you have some hesitation, and that's perfectly normal. I know how much this career means to you, especially being partners with Kotetsu as you are. I know how much it must hurt you to even think about quitting, but I beg you to see my side and try to understand how much emotional danger this is putting you in."

"I'll call you back," Barnaby replied curtly before she could draw another breath, flipping his cell phone shut the moment the words were out of his mouth.

Kotetsu placed his hand on Barnaby's leg and shot him a cautious glance. Barnaby was fragile, right then, perhaps more fragile than he had ever been. It was imperative that Kotetsu keep himself calm. If he appeared too worried, the anxiety would only rub off on Barnaby and possibly trigger another episode. That was the last thing either of them needed.

"Everything okay?" Kotetsu asked as naturally as he could.

Barnaby turned his head away from his lover, averting his gaze and keeping his thoughts to himself. How dare she ask that of him? How dare she even think about taking this away from him! While becoming a hero had not initially been Barnaby's first career choice, it was more a part of him now than he had ever thought possible. More importantly, he knew that the moment he resigned, Kotetsu would quit as well.

Remaining in the hero business as long as he could meant even more to Kotetsu than it was to Barnaby. Unlike Barnaby, Kotetsu had been _born_ to be a hero. He had never wanted anything else, and even with only one minute of his powers remaining he refused to consider retirement. Barnaby couldn't imagine taking that away from Kotetsu. It would undoubtedly crush him, leaving him in pieces just as the Crusher for Justice himself left nothing but destruction in his wake. But there would be no justice involved in taking Kotetsu's career from him.

Being Wild Tiger was what kept the old man's depression at bay. Being Wild Tiger was what gave Kotetsu his quirky, characteristic happiness. Being Wild Tiger was what kept him from drinking himself into oblivion every night and waking up the next afternoon only to do it again.

Barnaby could never do that to him.

Saito mumbled something about driving back to the Apollon tower before disappearing around the corner to the driver's seat, unnoticed and unheard.

Barnaby didn't call Amaranthe back that evening.

He spent the remainder of the night in silence, curled up against Kotetsu and letting the warmth of his partner comfort him as he tried to clear his head and make sense of all the chaos and turmoil he had found himself wrapped in. His sleep came only in the form of fitful naps and uncomfortable dozing. At some point in the middle of the night when Kotetsu awoke to find Barnaby suffering from a sleepless night, he brought the blond a glass of his favorite wine and offered a weak smile.

"To calm your thoughts, sweetheart."

Barnaby still only slept for two and a half hours.

He was waiting, restless and eyes red from lack of sleep, on the doorstep of Amaranthe's office when she came to unlock the door the next morning.

"I'm not quitting," he said immediately.

"You didn't sleep last night."

"I'm _not_ quitting."

"Barnaby, try to see reason."

" _I'm not quitting!_ " He hadn't meant to yell like that, especially not outside where others could have heard.

Amaranthe grimaced and unlocked the front door, pocketing her key and replying firmly, "Come inside and have a seat, Barnaby, before you make a spectacle of yourself."

It took every ounce of strength in Barnaby's body to keep quiet and just walk inside like any reasonable man would. For the first time since he had begun meeting with Amaranthe, he found himself hating her. Despite everything she had done for him and despite how he had come to trust her and even _befriend_ her, he could muster no positive emotion for her in that moment. She was out of line, suggesting what she had on the phone. She had no _right_ to tear his life, and Kotetsu's, apart like that.

"I was wrong to suggest what I did yesterday."

Barnaby's face lit up with surprise, but he had gotten his hopes up too soon.

"I should have waited for a better time," she admitted. "I stand by what I said, but you were in no state to hear something like that. I apologize."

"I'm _still_ in no state to hear it," Barnaby retorted. "I'll _never_ be. If I was to quit so suddenly, do you have any idea how it would affect Kotetsu and me? Would a leave of absence not make more sense? I think it's _you_ who's not listening to reason, Amaranthe."

Amaranthe sighed, frustrated and not hiding the fact. Up until now, she had respected Barnaby. She hadn't made a spectacle about treating a celebrity. She hadn't forced him to do anything he objected to or talk about anything that made him uncomfortable. She had gone at _his_ pace, had done everything she could to accommodate _him_ , and this was how he repaid her?

"Have a seat, Barnaby. We need to talk."

"Yes, I agree. We do." Barnaby's response was anything but the sweetness and politeness he usually reserved for his sessions with her.

Amaranthe disappeared for a short time, likely to cancel her first appointment of the morning. When she returned, Barnaby noticed her face held a kind of harsh sternness he had never seen before, as if the moment he denied her what she thought was best she became a different person. Maybe he wasn't the only one who needed psychological help if she had a power complex that great.

Barnaby began right away. There was no point in wasting time or mincing words. "I don't understand why a leave of absence isn't the most sensible option. It makes no sense to permanently remove myself from a career that's very important to me when I'm barely twenty-seven years old."

"Because you're not _well,_ Barnaby."

"I _know_ that!" he argued, once again more loudly than he had intended. He clenched his fists into tight balls, his nails digging painfully into his skin and keeping his emotions anchored. Losing control would do nothing to help his situation and would only further support Amaranthe's position.

"I'm sorry." Barnaby continued more calmly. "But I still believe that what I'm suffering now can be resolved. You've _shown_ me it can." _A little flattery never hurt anything_ , he thought as he reminded her of the progress she had made so far. "I'm remembering now. Of course, only a very few things, but I'm making progress. I don't care how hard it is on my body, I assure you I've been through worse."

He ignored the skeptical expression etched into her features.

Barnaby waited patiently for her response, realizing for the first time that he didn't have to listen to what she said. She was only his psychiatrist. Besides the medicine she prescribed and the therapy she provided, she held no actual control over him. She had no power to make the decision for him. His career was safe in his own hands.

So why did everything she said seem so convincing? Why did Barnaby feel compelled to obey her? He realized that he had never refused anything she suggested. Nearly every word she spoke seemed right, and in the rare instances when she suggested something that made Barnaby uneasy, her advice had seemed more like a law than a suggestion. He had never once denied her, and until now he had not even _questioned_ her.

Amaranthe pursed her lips, displeased with the situation but considering her options. She huffed out a frustrated sigh and crossed her arms. If Barnaby wasn't going to listen to her, she was going to make it obvious that she was unhappy about it.

"We'll start with a leave of absence. We'll start there, but I would highly encourage you to think about your health long-term."

Barnaby noticed that her "encouragement" sounded much more like a harsh demand, but he nodded once in agreement and abruptly stood from his seat on the black leather couch he had become so accustomed to.

"Wait," Amaranthe said, quickly stopping him and standing up as well, retrieving something from the bag she had carried in with her. "There's a new medicine I want you to try. It's for your sleep. You'll rest better."

From her purse she produced a small container of pills, unlabeled except for a small sticker listing her name and credentials.

Barnaby took the bottle hesitantly and held it at eye level to peer inside.

"You normally write me a prescription. What exactly _is_ this?"

Amaranthe grinned, looking a little sheepish as she said. "I actually made it myself. It's engineered specifically for the inner workings of a NEXT. It should be more effective than your regular sleeping medication."

Barnaby peered at her skeptically over his glasses, but she seemed so much like herself once again that he didn't dare offend her by questioning her further. He knew by now that her research was brilliant. Her name was printed in journals too many times to count. A medicine made by her and her alone was sure to be a success, and he felt as if he should be thankful for it.

He wrapped his fingers tightly around the vial and offered her a smile that looked more like a grimace, forcing out a reluctant "Thank you," before silently excusing himself from her sight.


	7. Chapter 7

Amaranthe was silent for the next few days. Whereas she normally called Barnaby midway through the week to check on his progress, there was no courtesy call before their next session. Even then, Amaranthe was quiet, hiding her emotions under a veil of false politeness. She brought up nothing about Barnaby's leave of absence, which he had indeed applied for the day prior, and she never again mentioned therapy with her NEXT friend in fear that she would send Barnaby into another fit.

But just because she didn't speak aloud of those things didn't mean that she wasn't thinking of them.

She had to admit to herself that Barnaby had become her obsession, not just because he was the most interesting patient she had ever treated or because he was also the most _difficult_ patient she had ever treated, but because she found herself genuinely _caring_ for him. When he had yelled at her earlier that week, she had hated herself. When he had left in a huff, a tear had slipped down her cheek. She hated what she was making him go through, but she knew that she had no choice. She knew that in the end, _he_ would have no choice.

What Barnaby didn't know was that her heart was tearing in two for him just as his own heart was being ripped to shreds.

Her sleeping medication had worked perfectly, just as she had promised. She was proud to hear it, if only because Barnaby felt a little bit better as a result of her work. She could see that his eyes were brighter and livelier than their last blunder of a meeting, and for that she was glad. If only he understood how difficult it had been for her to provide him with that medicine. Amaranthe wanted him to understand, but she knew that he probably never would. She feared their relationship was beyond complete repair.

The meeting was without incident though Barnaby was undoubtedly more cold and cautious towards her than he had been. That much had been expected, and though it hurt Amaranthe more than she had expected, she carried on with a flawless professionalism until Barnaby was out the door, not to return for another week.

It didn't matter that Amaranthe knew they were watching. As soon as he was gone, nearly as cold and aloof as he had been when leaving a few days prior, she fell to her knees in tears.

Days continued to pass peacefully but more uneventfully than Barnaby would have liked. Kotetsu stayed with him as much as he could, but without his partner to shoulder much of the work for him, Wild Tiger rarely found time for a break. It was obviously a burden on the older man, but one he was willing to shoulder for Barnaby. They made adjustments and adapted, working together as a team the best they could to keep their lives going as smoothly as possible. 

They managed for awhile, but it wasn't long before their efforts were in vain. Barnaby's anxiety shot through the roof, reaching levels previously untouched. He went from nervously pacing the house and wringing his hands to not being able to get himself out of bed, all within the short timespan of a few days. His medicines had remained unchanged, so he ruled out the possibility of adverse side effects, nor had he been able to recall any additional memories. Kotetsu blamed Barnaby's mood changes on being out of the hero business.

"I wasn't unlike you for the year I took off, you know. It was awful," Kotetsu said one night as he sat on the edge of the bed and brushed Barnaby's unkept bangs from his face. "Kaede got sick of me lying around on the couch all the time drinking and watching Hero TV re-runs." Kotetsu chuckled at himself, remembering how much of a wreck he had been and how far he had come since rejoining Hero TV as Wild Tiger One Minute. "It was pretty pathetic. But as soon as you get back to work, you'll be well-rested and at the top of your game, Bunny. It's gonna feel great. You'll be like a new man."

Seemingly out of nowhere Kotetsu felt a hand on the back of his neck forcing him down, and Barnaby's lips were suddenly pressed against his own. Grinning at Barnaby's need, Kotetsu shifted into a more comfortable position straddling Barnaby's hips on the bed and resting his elbows on either side of the blond's shoulders.

So Barnaby had finally reached his breaking point. After days of suffering from worry and depression and so much emotional pain, he had given in. He had finally realized he needed help, needed to reach out. And, as always, Kotetsu was the one he ran to for comfort. Kotetsu's arms were where Barnaby felt safest. Barnaby felt the most at home trapped beneath his sweetheart's muscled body, at his lover's mercy. That sweet, perfect kind of control that Kotetsu exerted over Barnaby during their trysts held just the right amount of roughness and raw desire to make Barnaby's nerves tingle with pleasure and contentment, and he knew that having Kotetsu as intimately as possible would do him more good than any medicine a doctor could ever create.

Holding his young partner's face gently in his hands, Kotetsu took control of the kiss Barnaby had started but kept his touches gentle and soft.

Kotetsu knew better than to take things fast with Barnaby in his current state, but that didn't mean he didn't _want_ to.

He slid his tongue across Barnaby's lower lip, testing the waters, and Barnaby parted his lips immediately as an invitation for Kotetsu to take things further. As far as he liked. A little moan escaped from the full, parted mouth and Kotetsu drank it up hungrily, breathing it in and slipping his tongue between Barnaby's lips to taste and tease and explore.

"Bunny." The nickname slid from Kotetsu's mouth in an erotic whisper, and despite his condition, Barnaby responded by hooking one leg around Kotetsu's waist and wrapping both arms fully around his lover's neck.

The kiss was broken, but the heroes were far from finished. Barnaby's trembling hands were already unbuttoning Kotetsu's shirt, slowly but effectively, and Kotetsu returned the gesture by lifting Barnaby's shirt up over his chest to expose the soft skin and hard muscle to the air.

It had been a long time since they had done this. _Too long_ , Kotetsu thought. And in his and Barnaby's current state, Kotetsu couldn't think of a better pick-me-up than this.

He leaned down further to draw his tongue flat across one of Barnaby's nipples, the saliva cooling from the chill of the air and making Barnaby shiver with delight. Kotetsu relished the little trembles of the pliant body beneath him, grinning around Barnaby's other nipple. He suckled it gently, flicking his tongue across the sensitive nub, and was rewarded by Barnaby grinding eager hips up into his.

They were both so sensitive, mewling and gasping at only the slightest touch.

_Never waiting this long again._

Kotetsu's lips crashed into Barnaby's once again, and the bearded man was quick to free his hardening cock from the confines of his trousers.

"Where do you want it, Bunny?" he breathed against his blond's lips.

They had done this enough that Barnaby knew he had two options. It was always so difficult to choose, but no one said he was limited to just one or the other. With that in mind, Barnaby uttered his decision in a single, breathless word.

"Mouth."

Kotetsu couldn't hide his excited grin.

"I want you to fuck my mouth."

Licking his lips in anticipation of the overwhelming perfection he was about to feel, Kotetsu guided his cock to Barnaby's lips, red and swollen from the heat of their kisses.

"I can do that, Bunny. You sure that's what you want?"

Barnaby nodded, his eyes glassy with tears that Kotetsu could tell were not of sadness or despair, but of a joyous passion and relief.

"Of course that's what I want. It's you, isn't it? I just want you."

Kotetsu shoved his cock past Barnaby's lips in a motion both gentle and lewd, caring and hungry, and Barnaby knew that if anything could cure him, it was this.


	8. Chapter 8

"Well?"

A tall, lanky man wearing a lab coat down to his knees poured two bottles worth of pills onto the mahogany desk behind which his employer sat steepling his fingers and gazing on expectantly.

"You've analyzed the pills and confirmed their contents?"

The scientist nodded and adjusted his glasses at their bridge before running a hand through his long, disheveled bangs.

"Yes, Brooks' anxiety and prescription sleeping medication." he replied, his voice deep but smooth and heavy with British accent. "Blackbird replaced them with the pills I developed. The side effects won't be pretty."

The man behind the desk was only partially satisfied. "And how long will we have to _wait_ , Dr. Raynes?"

He shrugged, his eyes flitting around the room from one corner to the next and fingers absently twiddling through his blonde ponytail. The questions were quickly becoming tiring.

"The first signs should manifest themselves in a few days or so," Raynes sighed with obvious disinterest. "Lots of factors involved, like whether or not Brooks takes his medicine religiously and his average metabolic rate. Trust me and be patient, and it'll all--"

"I am _tired_ of being _patient_. That damned a _ssistant_ of yours has already kept us waiting far too long. If Spring isn't holding up her end of the deal, it's time to use more f _orce_."

The doctor covertly rolled his eyes and cracked the bony knuckles in both of his hands in a trembling, nervous motion. "Amaranthe is one of us, now. She'll do what she has to in order to remain thus. Ophelia shouldn't need to use much force. But as a last resort, _I_ will be one taking charge of persuading our lovely psychiatrist. I have, well, several more _effective_ methods in mind than Ophelia does, I'm sure. Torture is, as you know, sir..." The doctor looked his employer straight in the eye for the first time during their meeting and once again ran a hand through his bangs. The disturbance of the hair around his face allowed the other to catch a glimpse of the scar tissue around his scientist's left eye and forehead. "...my specialty. Experience really is the best teacher, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't exactly call her one of us. Not _yet_. She certainly hasn't proven herself," the employer said spitefully, averting his eyes from the sight of the scars marring the blond's otherwise handsome face.

Raynes turned his back with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Ah well. She will be soon enough, even if not by choice." He was bored, and he had never liked his new employer very much. "Toodles, sir. Blackbird will be in touch with surveillance updates."

The boss really needed to teach that cocky bastard a thing or two about respect. Then again, there really was no _teaching_ Liam Raynes much of anything.

A young woman with a head full of curly auburn hair pulled back into a messy bun sat intently at her lab bench down the hall. A thick pair of protective goggles covered her eyes though she wasn't working with any hazardous materials at the moment. She heard the door to the lab open and slam shut and her favorite voice call across the constant hum of machinery, "Ophelia, boss isn't pleased! He wants more progress with the psychiatrist!"

Liam appeared around the corner of the shelves hiding his assistant's bench from view of the rest of the lab and languidly rested a hand on his hip. "I frankly don't care about the whole goddamned thing, but he wants you to do something."

The woman named Ophelia paused her work and looked up at Liam with pursed lips. Though he couldn't see her eyes through the bangs in her face trapped beneath the goggles, he knew her well enough to read her expressions by her mouth and cheeks alone. Her lips were pursed in disgruntled annoyance.

"Tch, I'm doing what I can without bloody hurting her. If she weren't falling in _love_ with Brooks this would be a hell of a lot easier."

Liam wanted so badly to tear the goggles from her face and push the bangs away, to look into her eyes and cradle her face in her hands and tell her it would be all right, but he knew her style and her ways. She would probably bite his hands off if he tried any such thing.

"Falling in love? Well doesn't that sound dramatic," he mumbled, disinterested as he pulled a couple of latex gloves from a cardboard box above her bench and snapped them on so he could continue his work. "Whatever you want to do is fine with me as long as the boss is happy. You know how he gets about Brooks. It's frustrating to say the least. If you can't get results just come to me and I'll force her. But I'd really rather not, lovie."

Ophelia's nose wrinkled only slightly at Liam's nickname for her. Any other day and her heart might have leapt at it, but not then. She was too pissed off at the situation and at the doctor she had been trying to manipulate. Slamming her pipet down onto her bench with disgust, she shoved her stool back and tore the protective eyewear from her face with more force than was necessary. Brushing her bangs back down into her eyes and muttering something about her work being interrupted and the whole damn organization being insane, she slammed the lab door behind her and went to find her darling Amaranthe.

_I'll show that bitch a thing or two about love._

The lab they had provided Amaranthe had been so much more than she had ever had access to before. While much of Amaranthe's work involved people -- observing them and interviewing them -- dabbling in molecular and neurobiology had always been one of her favorite pastimes. She was a genius, and the wide range of topics she specialized in proved it. Her knowledge extended far beyond the observational but also delved deep into the physical and biological workings of humans, NEXTs in particular. They had always fascinated her, from the very day she had found out that she was a NEXT herself.

She was eighteen when she discovered her extraordinary talent for the first time, just beginning college and her pursue of a career in science. She soon made it her primary goal to figure out how NEXTs such as herself worked and what made them different, and she didn't let her age become an obstacle. From day one of her university years she worked under biology professors and studied both genetics and molecular biology, but the nature of her power compelled her to learn more about the _brain_. But even more than that, Amaranthe strived to understand people's _emotions_. She graduated, continued to professional school, started her own lab, but as much of a genius as she was and as many times as she was published here and there for her innovative research, she always seemed to be underfunded. Very few people were interested in investing in research about _freaks_.

Until recently.

Half a year ago, when Barnaby Brooks Jr. had left her office for the first time, she had received a proposal that she couldn't refuse.

Her own lab. Unlimited funds. A nearly unlimited subject pool of NEXTs. Intelligent colleagues who shared her passion.

There had been one condition, however.

The door to Amaranthe's lab suddenly slammed open, interrupting her thoughts, and she cowered in her seat at the sweet but angry voice that followed.

"Amaranthe, dear, there's been a little problem."

Ophelia approached the psychiatrist from behind and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head backwards and grinning maliciously.

"I think it's time to play."


End file.
